


to make gold by art

by duckmoles



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blind Roy Mustang, Gen, Multi, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 04:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12697299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckmoles/pseuds/duckmoles
Summary: Roy Mustang's superhero career is cut short when he emerges from a battle with permanent scars, his best friend's death on his hands, and the loss of his sight.But there are still battles to fight, wars to be won, and there is no time to rest.NOTE: probably permanently unfinished, whoops.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is inspired by the sadly unfinished [(we're not) symbols of human failure](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2518478/chapters/5595173) though it doesn't really resemble it at all except for the premise.

#### NOW

Hawkeye sighed. She was swirling her water around in the cup, the ice cubes clinking against the glass.

“Sir,” she said, slightly resigned. “The Elrics have repeatedly contacted me for information about you. My reassurances don’t seem to reassure. They’d prefer to hear it from you. You could at least call them.”

Roy snorted slightly, fumbling awkwardly with his hand until he was able to grasp his drink and finish it off. “Let them worry,” he replied. “I doubt it’ll happen again.”

Hawkeye didn’t reply immediately, presumably taking a sip of her own drink. Her next words were hard to hear against the chatter of the other café patrons: “Edward – reports of him have doubled since you got out. He’s going to hurt himself at this rate. Talk to him before he does.” She stood up, the chair grating against the stone ground. “Are you ready to go?”

Roy smiled gratefully as he linked her arm with his own. “I’ll think about it,” he said, and Riza laughed, which he knew was more for his benefit than anything else.

The walk back to his apartment was quiet, and he only tripped twice on the way.

When Riza left after making him promise he would call the Elrics soon, he collapsed on the sofa and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. His constant headache had faded slightly since his release, but today it had resurfaced with a vengeance. He exhaled, somewhere between a sigh and a release of exhaustion. The sound seemed to echo in the humming silence of the apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

#### THEN

Roy met Lancelot (the newspapers always thought they were so clever) after the aftermath of the battle against a then-unnamed villain, on the rooftops near the outskirts of Central City’s urban area. Lancelot was nearly passed out, clutching his side and trying not to bleed out. He still had enough energy to startle when Roy said, “Newbies usually wait a few days before being mortally wounded.”

“Who – who the fuck are you?” Lancelot gasped, inching backwards toward the edge.

“Here to help,” Roy replied, his voice muffled by the mask covering the lower half of his face. When he tried to tug Lancelot’s hands away from the wound, Lancelot groaned in pain but stiffened even harder.

“I’m the Phoenix,” Roy said. “If you don’t want to bleed out, let me patch you up.”

Lancelot closed his eyes and let Roy rearrange his limbs so Roy could patch up the wound best he could with the towels and bandages he had nicked from Hughes’s place.

“Alright, you’re going to come with me and we’re going to get you patched up for real, and then you’re going to rest.”

“No!” Lancelot exclaimed, slurring slightly. “No, no hospitals.”

Roy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m taking you to a friend’s. She’ll keep quiet, don’t worry. Now, come on.” He helped Lancelot to his feet and started half-dragging him in the direction of Hughes’s house, though with just a few steps his baggage had become fully unconscious. “In the future, please try and pass out somewhere more convenient,” Roy said, remembering Hawkeye’s advice to _lift with your legs, Sir_.


	3. Chapter 3

#### NOW

“I thought the Lieutenant told you to call me,” Edward Elric said from the doorway.

Roy owed his military training to the fact that he didn’t jump a foot up in the air. He squinted at the direction of Elric’s voice by rote, even though it was useless. “And I thought you knew better than to sneak up on a blind man.”

Elric snorted and stepped into his apartment. “You’re not getting any sympathy points from me, old man.” When he sat on the sofa, there was the distinct scraping of metal against metal that told Roy that he was fully geared up.

“Hawkeye told me that you’ve been going out more. Getting yourself into trouble.”

Elric’s left foot tapped against the floor – a steady _thump-thump_ that suggested his restlessness. “I’m with Al,” he said defensively. “Besides, it’s not like we’re beating up random people on the street. We’re tracking down the Homunculi. Thought you’d be excited about that.”

Roy grimaced. “You and Alphonse, without my flames? I wouldn’t have thought you’d last a day.”

The thumping stopped for a brief second, then continued. “We could just bring you with us. Put you outside the door and tell you when to snap. Besides, Armstrong and Hawkeye are much better to fight with than you were.”

“And you’re going out tonight?” Roy asked, trying to make the question sound innocuous.

Elric stood up and started pacing around the apartment – _thump, pause, thump_. “Just came back, actually. That’s what I came to talk to you about.”

At that, Elric’s phone buzzed. He stopped talking. Roy assumed that he was checking it.

“Huh,” Elric said. “Sorry, gotta go. Fuery just spotted Gluttony and Lust near 13th. I’ll swing by later.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

Roy slumped into his couch and tried not to think of his friends battling – Hawkeye monitoring the situation through her scope, Fuery frantically manipulating security cameras and lights to make sure no one gets caught, Edward and Alphonse at the frontlines trying to land a blow on the Homunculi while trying to lure them away from the city, and him, sitting at home, listening to the radio drone on while his city was being attacked around him.

There was a part of him – a stupid, insane part that got him in this mess in the first place – that told him to go into his bedroom and grab his mask and run out to fight alongside of him. The more sensible part kindly told the other part to shut up, because, c’mon. Roy could barely walk down the sidewalk without tripping. He’d be useless, if not an outright liability.

Instead, he grabbed his electric kettle and boiled some water to make tea before falling asleep on the couch.


	4. Chapter 4

#### THEN

“Second floor almost clear,” Hawkeye said, her voice filtered slightly through the static on the comm. A gunshot, and Roy flashed in a smile in the direction where she was, though he knew she couldn’t see it. Another two of the goons came rushing forward, but Roy quickly dispatched them with a quick burst of flame.

“Boss is in the floor above.” Fuery said softly. “Four others. All with guns. Pistols.”

“Remember,” said Hawkeye, appearing from a hallway near the stairs, holding her gun in front of her, “our goal here is capture. Control yourself, Sir.” Her eyes were hard and faintly amused.

“When have I ever lost control?” Roy grinned, unable to control his excitement. Six months chasing dead-end leads was finally culminating in something tangible. Taking them out now would mean an end to the Drachman smuggling ring that had its arms spread throughout the city, which dealt in everything from drugs to human trafficking.

At the top of the stairs, three of Fuery’s reported four were waiting for them. To his right, Hawkeye opened fire, and Roy extended his arm. The hallway lit up in a bright burst of yellow and orange.


	5. Chapter 5

#### NOW

 

The bang of his door against the wall woke him up, and even as he startled to his feet he had his hand outstretched in front of him, poised to spark, before he heard Hawkeye’s exhausted voice saying, “Sir, it’s us,” and Edward Elric’s “Calm your tits,” and Alphonse’s “Sorry we woke you up!”

He lowered his arm, but his heart was still beating jackrabbit-fast.

The Elrics walked into Roy’s guest room where he kept spare clothes for his team to change out of their costumes and shower, and Hawkeye sat down on the couch with a low grunt of pain.

The tension leached out of him slowly, and it was a good minute or two before he sat back down, sinking into the couch cushions.

“We had just finished a raid on one of the Homunculi’s safe houses,” Hawkeye said quietly. “We thought we were done, but Fuery spotted Envy overseeing a robbery of Central Bank,” Hawkeye said quietly. “Gluttony turned out to be a false call. We intercepted the robbers but Envy engaged. Fuery was knocked out of his perch, but Marcoh thinks he’ll be fine. We managed to lose them near the library. The one on 45th and King.”

Roy let out a sigh and leaned his head to rest on the sofa backing. “The robbers?”

“Apprehended.”

“Anyone else hurt?”

“Edward reopened his cut, if that’s what you’re talking about,” Hawkeye replied, a hint of her smile in her voice. She moved, the fabric of the couch shifting with her, and rested her hand on his arm.

“We think Lust is gone for good,” she said under her breath. “No one’s seen her, not even with Gluttony. We’ve got Marcoh trying to figure it out, but it seems they _can_ be killed.”

“There wasn’t a body,” Roy said grimly. “We can’t assume.”

“Yes,” Hawkeye agreed. “We’re meeting tomorrow night when Fuery’s well enough to join in. The old warehouse. I’ll come pick you up.”

Roy grimaced. “That’s not needed.”

“I’ll come pick you up,” Hawkeye repeated. Her hand was a warm weight on Roy’s perpetually cold skin.

Roy acquiesced his agreement.

“We still don’t know what the Homunculi need with all that money,” Hawkeye said. “Three robberies, 3 weeks. They’ve been taking nearly 70% of all the earnings, almost 200 million cenz in gold.”

“They’re planning something big. Any word from the Elrics on who ‘Father’ is?”

“They’ve only been chasing that name for a week.”

The creaking of the guest room door and the heavy footsteps of the Elrics told Roy they had finished changing.

“All yours, Miss Hawkeye,” Alphonse said.

Riza squeezed his bicep reassuringly and stood up. “Thank you, boys,” she said. To Roy, she murmured, “Don’t worry so much. We’re still your team.”


	6. Chapter 6

#### THEN

Maes muffled his laugh in his sleeve. “You look ridiculous,” he said.

Roy looked over himself in the mirror. “I think I look fine,” he said.

“You’re dressed in bright red. Real subtle. Suave. The muggers won’t know what hit them.”

Scowling, Roy pulled his top off. “You are aware that with what I can do, there’s literally no way for me to be subtle.”

“Stealth, Mustang.” Maes grabbed the shirt and tossed it into the garbage bin. “Just because you never went on any stealth missions doesn’t mean you can dismiss the concept altogether. You can be flashy all you want when you’re actually fighting, but there’s no point if they run before you’re within a mile.”

Roy fished the shirt back out, frowning. “Then what do you suggest?”

Maes walked over to Roy’s closet, pushing his glasses up his nose as he did so. “Black. It’ll hide the singe marks too.”

“I’m not planning on being singed.”

Maes turned around and pointed an accusing finger at Roy. “I’ve seen your hands. Singed is an understatement.” He turned back to the closet and pulled out one of Roy’s long sleeved black shirts, tossing it to Roy. “Try that on.”

When Roy pulled it over his head, he spun around, arms extended – _ta-da_!

Maes gave Roy a thumbs up, not even bothering to suppress his laughter.


	7. extra bits that are finished but have nowhere to go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as the title suggests, here are some scenes that are either half-done or have no actual place, so they're kind of stranded and have to bunch up together for safety.  
> there was also supposed to be a mildly smutty scene but i never got the chance to flesh it out but it's between maes and roy so do with that as you will.
> 
> the order of the scenes are in chronological order, for my sanity's sake, but if i were posting them normally they wouldn't be.

Maes’s face was still flushed even as he pulled on his boots. “So,” he said.

Roy waited a moment. “So what?”

“So, what’s this top-secret experiment I’m not supposed to know about?”

“It’s top secret for a reason,” Roy replied, trying to brush the dust off the sleeves of his white jacket (a futile act).

“Okay,” Maes said, “but imagine you’re me, and your best friend is participating in some weird thing that might  _kill_  him.”

“It’s not going to kill me.” Roy helped Maes to his feet. They walked out of their tent into the camp.

Maes’s fingers brushed Roy’s gently – an imitation of a handhold that they didn’t dare pursue. “I just want to make sure you’re safe,” he said quietly. “We both want to get out of this war alive.”

“I know,” Roy replied softly, though he was trying not to limp from yesterday’s physical tests; he’d jogged around the track for nearly 3 hours before the doctors had finally let him rest, and after that were more mental tests. They still haven’t told him what for, except that they “were going to make him better, for the country’s sake,” so it’s not like he could tell Maes, even if he didn’t sign a few dozen nondisclosure contracts.

“Hey,” Maes said. He caught Roy’s fingers in his grasp for a brief second. “I’m being serious.”

“I know,” Roy said. He pulled his hand away. Catch and release.

-

“Sir,” Hawkeye said, her hands clutching her rifle like it could protect her from… from this _thing_ that Roy was now. Roy blinked down at his hands, at the charred remains of his gloves hanging off his wrists, his slightly blackened fingernails.

“Huh,” he said softly, before he passed out.

When he woke up, Doctor Marcoh’s face was hovering over him. He looked about as exhausted as Roy felt.

“How’re you feeling?” Marcoh asked.

Roy closed his eyes again. “Tired,” he said. A bone-deep exhaustion had settled within him, all-encompassing and terrifying. He wanted to sleep.

A sharp jab in his elbow caused him to snap awake again. “You can’t sleep yet, Major Mustang. You’ll have to debrief first.”

Never tell Hughes, but Roy almost whined in response. “I could sleep for a year,” he muttered.

Marcoh made a noise of interest and grabbed a pad of paper, jotting something down briefly. “Really?” he asked. “How does it compare to your test trials?” His voice had taken on something close to enthused.

Roy wasn’t listening. He was already asleep again.

-

 “The best part about being blind is that no one expects you to drive,” Roy said, leaning back in the seat.

“Trust me, Sir, that’s the best part for all of us,” Hawkeye replied. The car slowed to a stop, a safe five blocks away from their meeting place.

Roy climbed out of the car. Riza took his arm and guided him onto the sidewalk. They walked briskly through the streets until the chatter and constant noise of the inner city faded into something softer.

The air was brisk and clear, the remnants of winter still clinging on to the temperature and refusing to let it climb. In the distance, a train whistle blew.

“I’ve been thinking of getting a dog,” Roy said, breaking the tender silence that had been growing between them. “I have a lot of savings and I’ll start working in two weeks. I can afford it. And it’ll be helpful.”

“Hayate would be jealous,” Hawkeye said. “And you have to learn how to use your cane better first.”

Roy directed a grin at Hawkeye. “Why would I need that cane when I have you?”

“Why would you need a dog?” she replied, a faint veneer of amusement in her voice.

As they walked, the butt of Hawkeye’s gun, hidden carefully in her waistband, bumped up against Roy, a solid, insistent rhythm that repeated itself with each step. Roy still had his service weapon hidden in his nightstand, even if he wasn’t supposed to have it.

“How’s things?” Roy said.

“Things are fine,” Riza replied, just as vague. “There’s a lot of gossip. The spotters are starting to take note of your absence.”

Roy grimaced. The spotter group had surfaced barely a few weeks after Roy’s debut. They were the ones that had come up with his nickname and were the forefront in being a pain in Roy’s ass, not including Edward Elric. It was nearly impossible to find a place to de-mask when they were on the hunt.


End file.
